New Man
by SeraphJewel
Summary: Blaine has changed because of his memory loss. Peyton tries to reconcile this man with the one he used to be and the one she thought she knew. (season two finale spoilers)
1. New Man

Disclaimer: I don't own _iZombie_ or any of the characters. I just love the show so much!

 **New Man**

The drive back to the apartment complex was silent. Peyton was in the back seat, arms clutched tightly to her chest. Ravi was at the wheel with fingers gripping tight enough to cut off the blood circulation. Blaine sat shotgun with his elbow propped on the window. He seemed to be off in his own thoughts, but Peyton swore she saw his eyes darting to her every now and then. When she caught him doing it she gave him a little nod. It was the best she could manage.

Every moment of the past few hours was in sharp, painful focus for her, from the moment when those men grabbed her to when she saw the last one hit the ground dead. Peyton rubbed her wrists trying to get off that feeling of being tied up, the skin around her mouth stinging from the gag. She took in a slow breath and let it out again trying to calm herself.

They finally pulled into the parking lot. The guys got out and Peyton eventually did the same. Silence continued to linger over them as they headed up to the apartment. For a moment Peyton was seized by panic; this was where Boss's men grabbed her. _They're dead,_ she reminded herself firmly. _Blaine killed them._ Her eyes moved to him and found him glancing back at her again. He reached out to lightly touch her arm.

"Will you be all right to go up?" he asked her. Ravi was watching her as well, brows furrowed in concern

"Yeah." She gave them both a firm nod. "Yeah, I'm okay." Truthfully, they had nowhere else to go. She dropped the lease on her apartment and Ravi and Major's place would still be crawling with journalists. Besides, she wasn't going to let Stacey Boss cause her to be terrified of her own home. She held her head up high and strode forward.

There was a moment of hesitance once they got to the apartment, this time from Blaine. Ravi noticed it and gave him an assuring nod. "You've more than earned the right to stay here, Blaine." That got him to smile and he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

Silence fell again and Peyton knew they were all waiting for repercussions. The theme from _Star Wars_ blared from Ravi's phone, making them all jump. One conversation later, he turned to Peyton and Blaine with a weary expression.

"Turns out we're not the only ones with bodies on our hands tonight," he announced. "That was Liv. Apparently Max Rager had a repeat of the boat massacre at their latest party. She, Major and Detective Babineaux were all there. They're all right," he added quickly. "They're going to try and spin this away from zombies as much as possible."

As if they didn't have enough problems to worry about tonight. Peyton's emotions were too raw for this news to really make an impact. Instead she glanced over to Blaine, wondering if the mention of the boat party massacre triggered any memories. But his expression proved to be unreadable.

Ravi soon got another call telling him to report to a crime scene. It was the one they were all waiting for and brought on a dual sense of relief and dread. Peyton was too caught up at the time to notice if Ravi or Blaine cleaned up any forensic evidence linking them to the scene. Her lawyer brain fired up thinking of how they could spin this into a fight over the illegal drug market, which wouldn't even be a complete lie.

"You should preserve their brains," Blaine advised as Ravi headed out the door. "Liv and Major could use them to revitalize Peyton's case against Boss."

"Right," Ravi agreed. "Will you be all right here?" he asked Peyton. She managed a smile and nodded.

"I'm fine. You better get going." He hesitated a moment longer before leaving, locking the door behind him. With him gone, there was a moment of awkward silence. Eventually an unspoken agreement came between Peyton and Blaine, and the two of them found seats in the living room.

Peyton was trying to reconcile the man sitting in her living room with the one Liv warned her about and the one she thought she knew before the truth came out. He came prepared to take down Boss's men and killed them all with deadly efficiency. Not the sort of thing expected from an amnesiac. Yet he was also willing to give out brains to help Liv and Major and had spared Ravi from getting hurt in the shoot-out. Then there was the way he held her as she broke down… Were those all things he would've done if he remembered everything?

"So," she spoke up at last. "Thank you for saving my life. I know it was probably hard for you to go to these guys knowing they wanted to kill you."

"You were in trouble because of me," he said simply. "They kidnapped you because they knew I would come after you. Of course I was going to save you, or die trying." Peyton felt a flutter in her heart. They _knew_ , not they _thought_. Was he remembering something? Her mind flashed back again to being in his arms. She hadn't thought twice about accepting his touch or comfort, had in fact been grateful for his presence.

"Yeah, well," she retorted airily, "you were in trouble because of me, too. They went after you because you were helping me take Boss down." That got his face to break out into a smile. The smile reminded her so much of ones he gave when they hung out together that it hurt a little to see.

"Speaking of which," Blaine added, "I never properly thanked _you_ for opening your door to me. From everything I've been told, I'm not a very welcome person among you or your friends. I appreciate all you were willing to do to help me."

"We helped each other," she reminded him, "so we'll call it even."

"Deal," Blaine agreed, and they shook on it. Peyton found herself settling next to him on the couch. She felt the need to change the subject now. An amused smile played on the corner of her lip and she gave his hair a playful little flick.

"I can't believe I never connected the dots. My best friend has bleached hair out of nowhere and then I meet you, same hair. I honestly just figured you were a huge Billy Idol fan." To her great surprise and delight, Blaine actually started singing a Billy Idol song:

"Hey little sister what have you done? Hey little sister who's the only one? Hey little sister who's your superman? Hey little sister who's the one you want?" Peyton jumped in on the last line: "Hey little sister shotgun!"

It reminded her of when she stumbled on him playing the piano. His voice sounded just as nice now as it did then. That encounter led to him giving her his phone number. After she learned the truth about him she analyzed that gesture like every other thing he did, but she wondered if it was as simple as she originally thought: he liked her and wanted to give her some assurance. That thought certainly fit with this new Blaine.

"So you remember Billy Idol songs," she observed. "Guess your memory's not completely gone."

"My mind kept the important stuff," he quipped, and Peyton let out an unexpected laugh. Another point in favor of the Blaine she thought she knew.

"Why _do_ you keep your hair bleached, anyway?" she asked him. "'Surely some of your natural color has grown back by now."

"It did," he agreed. "I'm a blonde, by the way. I don't know, it just… didn't feel like me. The bleached hair is what I know; it makes me comfortable. The natural blonde felt wrong. Does that make sense?"

"I guess. If I had no past memories to fall back on, I figure I would keep to what was becoming familiar, too. It looks good on you," she added, "so that helps." He smiled again and this time the silence that fell was comfortable.

Peyton didn't think she'd get any sleep tonight, but she was growing increasingly more comfortable. Who would've thought that would happen in the presence of a murderer and drug dealer? Except even having just witness him take down several men, Peyton couldn't manage to see Blaine as frightening. Dangerous for sure, but a controlled danger like Liv or Major.

Peyton turned on the radio and Blaine poured them both glasses of water. Needing a distraction, Peyton got him into a game of cards. They started with Blackjack, using potato chips to bet with. A few rounds in showed her Blaine was very good at this game. He didn't win every time but he definitely had more potato chips than Peyton.

"More important stuff your mind kept?" she asked him, popping a chip in her mouth.

"Skills at card games and knowledge of 80s music. Clear ways to impress a beautiful woman," he said. That made her freeze. He sensed the change in the room and pulled his lips into a firm line. "You're eating the betting chips," he pointed out.

She drew her hand away from the bag, licking the salt off while trying to calm her emotions down a little. _Murderer, liar, drug dealer._ Some of those words still applied to this Blaine, but not in the same way. He was becoming someone different: pieces of his old self and his new self fitting together. Peyton lifted her hand to play with his hair. His gaze was much more intense than the last time she touched him this way.

"I think I would remember…" Blaine didn't finish his thought with words. He leaned forward and gave her mouth a soft brush of his lips. Peyton made the embrace more firm, winding an arm around his neck to keep him close. His kisses followed her lead and he held her with the same firmness as when she broke down at Boss's place.

They stayed tangled like that for a while. Their fingers tangled in each other's hair, kisses pausing only enough for quick breaths. Blaine was the one to finally end the embrace. His fingers brushed the spot where he kissed her the very first time and Peyton shivered.

"Like I said," he murmured. "Card games and 80s music gets them every time." That broke through the thick tension between them. Peyton laughed, smacking him on the arm.

"Shut up." He laughed in response. They were still holding each other, but it felt less heated now. Peyton rested her head on his shoulder. She hoped that whatever happened next, he could keep being this person.


	2. Earlier that day

_Earlier that day…_

It was like being on a full-speed train and someone suddenly throwing on the brakes. Peyton felt the jolt of it through her whole body: how it disoriented her and left her staggering. All of her hard work, every successful bust, it all was meaningless now that the case was discontinued. The city might as well have waved a white flag in Boss's face. Being alone in the apartment wasn't doing Peyton any good: it just left her to keep the failure on a loop in her mind.

She would've driven herself crazy if the knock on the door didn't interrupt her. Peyton shuffled over to see who it was and froze when she caught his image in the eyehole.

Blaine. What was he doing here? "Peyton, are you home?" he called out. He was here to see her? Curiosity got the better of her and she opened the door. His face shifted to relief the moment he saw her. "Is it all right if I come in?" he asked. "I don't want to disturb your neighbors."

"Sure." She stepped aside and shut the door behind him. Blaine took a few steps inside, pausing to observe the apartment. He turned to face her. Now that she got a good look at him, Peyton could see he was disheveled, and not in an on-purpose-to-look-cool sort of way. Understandably, she was concerned. "Is everything okay?" Peyton wondered. Blaine ran his fingers through his hair, the gesture only making him look messier.

"That guy I was helping you with… uh…"

"Stacey Boss," Peyton supplied.

"Right. Him. He sent guys to Shady Plots. They shot the big guy, Chief. He was a zombie but they got him in the skull so I'm pretty sure he's dead. I think I only made it out was because they weren't expecting to see me."

Unbelievable. Only Blaine DeBeers, amnesiac or not, could make being witness to a murder sound so casual. As for the attempted hit on Blaine himself, Peyton should've seen that one coming. Boss was a resourceful enough guy to find out who was ratting him out to the D. A., and once he did, of course he would send men over to fix the problem.

"I ran," Blaine continued. "They didn't chase after me. I guess Don E. got in their way, but I don't know if they killed him."

Peyton needed to sit down and collect her thoughts. Even with the case dropped Boss wasn't going to let Blaine's betrayal slide. He would assume, like Peyton originally did, that Blaine's amnesia was faked. Not that he was the kind of guy to care if it was real, anyway. Blaine's life was in danger, plain and simple. And while Peyton knew she should focus on that, there was another detail she couldn't help addressing.

"Why did you come here?" she asked Blaine.

"I literally didn't know where else to go," he responded. Peyton couldn't help smiling a little at Blaine's blunt way of talking about his memory loss. Still, she was a lawyer trained to not miss people's words.

"You called my name when you knocked."

"Your name's on my phone from all the times you called me," he answered. "It was easy to remember." She frowned a bit but didn't try to press the issue. Why was she trying to look for something, anyway? What she and Blaine had was a few conversations over Chinese take-out and whiskey and a one-night-stand. There was nothing more to it than that.

And, like he said, his memories left his options for help severely limited. "Okay," she said out loud. "You can stay here while I make some calls. I'll find somewhere safe for you to go."

"Are you sure?"

"I have some contacts. They'll get you to a safe house."

"No. I mean," Blaine clarified, "are you sure you want to help me?" Those words surprised her and she turned her attention to him. She realized that she never saw Blaine so uncertain before. He always acted so confident and even when things didn't go according to plan, he played it cool. His demeanor now showed Peyton that more than his memory had changed. 

"I want to help you, Blaine. I'm glad you came to me." Blaine was surprised by those words, but no more than Peyton was saying them. "Make yourself at home," she invited. "I'm going to go make that call." She left him there, going into her room and shutting the door.

Peyton just couldn't shake the feeling there was more to Blaine being here than her just being on an extremely short list of people he knew. Blaine was a smart guy and the smart thing would've been to go to the zombie for help and protection. But it was _her_ name he called out and it was _her_ he was relieved to see when the door opened.

She wanted to figure this out- figure _him_ out, if that was even possible. Not too long ago she would've taken her phone and called the police if Blaine was in the next room. Hell, she flat-out told Clive she wanted to see Blaine behind bars. She had the phone in her hand now.

Peyton didn't give it a second thought. She called her contacts to find a safe house for Blaine. Without even looking she knew Blaine was still in the apartment, trusting her. She wondered if he ever trusted like that before.

And Peyton wondered why she was doing it now.


End file.
